


Green Eyes

by Just_Another_Gay_Kid



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alcohol, Dancing, Established Relationship, I still don't know how to tag god help, Mentions of the past, Other, Snake Crowley (mentioned), Softie Crowley (Good Omens), They love each other, romantic dinner, they drink a lot don't they
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 12:04:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20545880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_Another_Gay_Kid/pseuds/Just_Another_Gay_Kid
Summary: It wasn't a special occasion per se, but Crowley was in the mood for a romantic night with his partner, so he made sure it was special. A nice dinner, wine and the company of your loved one should be more than enough to remind you exactly what you love about your partner. And guess what? It surely is.





	Green Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> My first Good Omens fic oh lord. Hope yall like it

The atmosphere in the room was sweet enough, like a pleasant memory from your childhood in which your grandmother's house would smell of fresh bread and you'd be drinking lemonade in the summer. Except this wasn't a memory, it didn't smell of bread and they were most surely not drinking lemonade. Instead, it smelled of slightly burnt pizza and the comfortable feeling was caused by the odd couple dancing - or rather, trying to - in the middle of the room. They were smiling, a bit in awe at each other, and a tad bit tipsy from all the bottles of wine they had had.

"C'mon angel, I thought you liked to dance!" Crowley said with an amusing smirk.

"I only know the Gavotte and you're well aware of that, dear." He let go of Crowley's arm.

"Hey, I can't dance to this either, but please, it's fun," he held Aziraphale by the hips. "And I like to just see you move around."

Aziraphale blushed and diverted his look, but started dancing again. The music was actually nice, and those moments with Crowley were always appreciated.

It wasn't a special occasion per se, but Crowley was in the mood for a romantic night with his partner, so he made sure it was special. Homecooked meals were romantic, were they not? So he'd made them pizza and oven chips for dinner (both frozen, of course. It was the closest he would get to actually cooking anything). According to the internet, dancing together could be very romantic as well, and that's exactly what got them there, in the middle of the room, moving around to Africa by Toto.

"But don't you remember that time we were... Somewhere in Africa for that concert? The rain ruined the performance and that made you sad, so you got super drunk and tried to dance with that poor lady even though you couldn't dance for anything, but she went along and later told us it was because you 'were so sweet and looked pretty hurt already' and she didn't want to damage you more?" Crowley looked him in the eyes. "You remember that?"

"How could I forget? I believe it was the first century after Christ, in Ethiopia. That lovely lady was greek, I remember her clothes and her pretty lover - who wouldn't stop making moves towards you, may I add!" Aziraphale gave him a serious look. "I do remember getting rather drunk and refusing to sober up. Made quite the mess, that day. In my defence, the wine was exquisite! Drank much more than was appropriate for the occasion. You even had to do my blessing for me that day. It was the first time you ever did that and you insisted on it, saying I was in no fit condition," he paused. "Is that why you chose this song? 'Blessing the rain in Africa'?"

Crowley took his hand again. Ah, the bastard! Aziraphale loved to remind him constantly of his miracles and blessings, even though the angel himself didn't like it when Crowley flipped the game. He once mentioned a temptation, a very small one, and he got flustered pretty quickly, so Crowley never teased him about it ever again. Of course, he would never admit to it, but he did like when Aziraphale started listing his good deeds. Not because he took pride in doing good, no, but because the angel looked so pleased while doing it.

"Oh, I also remember having dinner with you!" the Angel cheered.

"Yes, under the stars."

"Can't recall what we ate..."

"Don't ask me, I don't remember _food_." Crowley brought their faces closer.

"My dear... You know I don't like it when you do that," he held a look on his face.

"What did _I_ do?!" his tone was a bit more dramatic than Crowley intended.

"You know, serpent! The way you say 'food', like... Like it's a _rude word_." Aziraphale blushed. Rude words did that to him. He thought there was always a time and place for such words and they were not to be thrown around without context.

"It might as well be, angel." With a naughty smile on his face and a quick movement of his body, Crowley dipped his partner, managing to 'keep it cool' and not make a fool of himself in the process.

"Ah, dearest!" a pause. A confused look. "What the _hel_l are you playing at?" Another swift movement, very firm grip on his partner and a well-timed miracle - just like that, they had switched places and Aziraphale held a blushing demon on his arms. "We both know it goes like _this_."

Crowley didn't say a word. Aziraphale had a hand on the small of his back and his face had the most wide and triumphant smile, pairing well with his round flush cheeks. He looked much like a cherub, seen that way, although it was an odd angle to look at a cherub. Crowley would have pointed it out if he hadn't found himself completely lost for words and so embarrassed by his own embarrassment. What he did point out, even if only in his head, was how blue Aziraphale's eyes were. They were beautiful, but he didn't like them blue; he preferred them green-ish, feeling there was something comforting about the colour. Maybe it reminded him of the old days when there were a lot more candles around and blue eyes would look more green because of the flame. It could also be because, as Aziraphale's books were all so damn old and yellow, his eyes would appear green when he read - and Crowley loved to see him read. He could sit there for hours on end, looking at his friend with tenderness as his eyes ran back and forth through the pages, his hands flipping them again and again; how his expression would be when he read a very descriptive chapter, or how he would frown and twist his lips ever so slightly at a sad bit, and how he'd chuckle discreetly at a particularly witty joke. Aziraphale always looked so happy when he read.

Again, Crowley said none of those things, for he was blushing and embarrassed. When a human feels embarrassed they instinctively wish to disappear, to no success, of course, because humans don't have supernatural powers. When a demon feels embarrassed, the same happens, except they _do_ have powers and the ability to perform miracles, and that can lead to several awkward situations, if not carefully avoided. With this particular demon, it happened more than a couple of times, one being right after Aziraphale first kissed him affectionately on the lips. At this point, they had gotten accustomed to not kissing anyone because it was a sign of great affection with obvious romantic connotations (very different from the old days, mind you, when they would greet each other with a peck, as was expected). Aziraphale knew that, of course - it was the whole point. Crowley, on the other hand, got caught so off guard he ended up turning into a lovely black snake as a result, leaving his friend quite baffled. He only didn't stay that way because Aziraphale started wondering if he had done something very wrong (when in fact it was the polar opposite). Another reason Crowley didn't share his thoughts out loud was that he was focusing very hard to not turn himself into a snake.

"That's just a low blow, angel," he said, eventually.

"Don't pretend you don't enjoy it, my dear." Aziraphale gave him a peck on the lips and put him back on his feet. "It's just more natural for the both of us, that's all." He ignored the quiet hiss Crowley let out.

Truth was, Aziraphale loved Crowley very much so, and he was enjoying this evening a lot. He liked how hard his partner tried to impress him even after so long. Actually, he didn't know how to refer to Crowley anymore. 'Friend' is how he called him before, when they were still figuring out the nature of the relationship. Besides, even a few years back the word 'friend' did say everything the world needed to know, and they would say it so softly everyone understood how they were actually _friends_. But now? Now, 'friend' wouldn't do anymore. 'Boyfriend' could hardly describe it either; it was too casual, too simple a term for two beings who had known each other for thousands of years, and it was also very strict to the idea they were male, which wasn't true for neither of them - especially Crowley. No, Aziraphale didn't like the sound of 'boyfriend'. 'Partner' was the word he used most often around humans, although they assumed 'husband' was the word he meant. Truth was, Crowley was just Crowley, meaning he was _everything_ to the angel. He didn't know what to call Crowley because no word was grand enough, so he used his name and also 'my dear', because he was his dear. Aziraphale didn't need any other made-up word for them, but deep down he hoped one day he'd introduce Crowley to his human acquaintances as 'spouse', because even if that word wasn't exact, the meaning humans gave it was beyond special. But that would still take some time and, obviously, a proposal and a wedding.

"Well,” Crowley turned on his feet, "if you don't want to dance, we can just lay on the sofa and read a bit."

"Oh, don't know, my dear... I'm a bit too drunk to read." Aziraphale was already sitting down. He continued with a pleading look. "Though I couldn't say no to some Jane Austen. Or maybe Agatha Christie, if that's more to your liking."

Crowley sat down and made himself comfortable, taking off his glasses. Aziraphale half-smiled at him, smitten once again by those eyes he grew to love so much over the millennia.

"Come here, lay on me, I'll read to you."

Aziraphale rested his head on his chest with a sigh.

"I do love you, Crowley, you know that, right?" Aziraphale looked at him and there it was again, the comforting green on his eyes.

"Of course I know, angel," he was blushing again. He always did. "I love you too, more than anything."

And they kissed, tenderly, closing their eyes to feel the comfort of their bodies. It wasn't much of a surprise that a warm blanket was now resting on them, as if a miracle had brought it. It obviously had.

"Now, shall I pick... _Sense and Sensibility_?"

"An excellent choice, but I'm in the mood for something more... Obvious, I'd say." Aziraphale sounded soft, yet demanding.

"Alright," Crowley laughed and kissed his partner's curls. "Pride and Prejudice it is, then!"

He snapped his fingers and a very old copy, with very yellow pages, appeared on his hand. He opened it to the first page and smiled at the text he knew by heart and which he had read to Aziraphale many times before. Crowley cleared his throat and started, as he always did, with the softest voice:

_"It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife."_


End file.
